


Operation S

by Kanyayon



Category: Kamen Rider W (Double)
Genre: Elsewhere Fic, F/F, Female Protagonist, Original Character(s), POV Third Person, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanyayon/pseuds/Kanyayon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Museum may have been defeated but their work went beyond Futo. While Gaia Memory-related crime has plummeted in the Windy City, the occasional Dopant continues to distract the Kamen Riders from their pursuit of the mysterious Foundation X.</p><p>Meanwhile the streets of Fobing City are frequent battlegrounds between triad soldiers armed with knife, gun, and Gaia Memory. One gang in particular -Wong Saam Gok- stands at the top of the mountain due in large part to their extensive inventory of Gaia Memories, more than a few rumoured to have had owners who were murdered for refusing to join their ranks.</p><p>In order to combat the growing power of the triads, the Fobing Police Force are cooperating with Interpol. At the crux of the operation is an enforcer of Wong Saam Gok, Vicky Hung, who is in truth an undercover agent of Interpol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Woman in Sanguine - Part 1

The young woman wearing a red leather jacket has been waiting for almost a couple of hours already. The apartment she is in is small, cosy, and not her own. She had to kick the door down to get inside. It was noisy, but the residents of this block -and indeed, the neighbourhood- are too apathetic to have thought of the racket as anything more than an annoyance.

While she waits for this apartment's sole occupant to return home, she has already begun helping herself to the chocolate bars in the fridge. It seems unlikely that he would disapprove of it any more than the fact that his house has been broken into. Of the target's identity, she knows nothing except his face and his address. His name was most likely brought up during the briefing but she cannot remember it. She does not care to try too hard to remember it either. None of this will be important after the job is done.

A jingling of keys from the common corridor. She turns to the doorway and sees her target standing there, a look of shock on him turning into one of anger with the clenching of fists.

"You've been defaulting on your payments," she says just before he starts demanding the reason for her presence. "Pay up now or give back the Memory."

"I've already finished paying," he says with a hint of a growl as he takes wary strides toward her.

"Not for the interest." She gets up from the couch and brushes a stray lock of hair off her eye, the better to plead with them. "Just give me the Memory and you can put this all behind you."

"No!" His lashing out is sudden, but not surprising. It is an all too common response for one who has become addicted to the power of a Gaia Memory. "I will pay what I owe but I don't have the money now. Next month, okay? Go back and tell your boss I will pay it next month, all of it."

"Shing-gor won't accept it." She sighs. It almost always will come down to this, but she will try one more time. "I understand it's hard to let go but it's better that way. It gets harder to quit when you've been using one as long as I have."

"I don't want to quit!" He snatches from his pocket the very object of their exchange. It is a grotesque thing, all Gaia Memories are, with their grooves reminiscent of a rib cage as though the device is some alien bio-mechanical repository of data. "Actually," the target starts to smile from thoughts that are surely murderous, "I don't have to listen to you or your boss or anyone now that I have the power of a god!"

She reaches into her jacket and pulls out her own Memory. Hers is a predominantly red colour unlike his grey-green, and hers is emblemed with a blood splatter resembling the letter S instead of a letter C in the form of an open reptilian snout.

"Don't make me use this," she says, begging. "I want to stop hurting people but if I use this thing, I will forget that. It's maimed many others before, please don't think it'll be any different this time."

"Are you looking down on me?" He yells. "Don't look down on me!"

"CROCODILE!" Announces his Memory upon him pressing the primer.

"I will fuck you up!"

With that, he pushes his Memory into the USB port-like tattoo on his wrist. Only a few counts until his body completely absorbs the device. She immediately primes her Sanguine Memory and inserts it into her neck. The process is painless -at least when a Connector is used- and imparts a pleasurable burning sensation as whatever mystical force rewrites her entire molecular structure to transform mere flesh into something more than that.

And for the Sanguine Memory in particular, it inspires a manic impulsiveness.

Her target, now in the form of a humanoid crocodile, snaps at her with elongated knife-lined jaw once his transformation is done. She barely has enough time to react, those vicious teeth grazing her face as she steps back.

Becoming the Sanguine Dopant gives her an unnerving grin that never leaves her visage composed entirely of cardiac muscle and vascular tissue, and it only grows wider when she bleeds. A sharp laughter sounds through her needle teeth, from the sheathes sewn into her leather apron she extracts a pair of exaggerated surgical knives, her pink oddly-human eyes lock onto he would be her next victim, and she throws herself into a blade-whirling frenzy at him. She strikes him many times but his thick reptilian hide makes for effective armour, emboldening him to catch her arm between his jaws and separate it from the rest of her. Quickly, she stabs him from under his mouth. Unfortunately for him, the Crocodile Memory imparts its subject's weaknesses as well as their strength and the minimal force of having a knife stuck through his snout is enough to pin it shut.

If he thinks that they are in a stalemate, he is wrong. She already wins this fight.

He begins to cough from his nose, choking and then convulsing, more and more violently with each spasm until the Crocodile Memory forcibly ejects itself from him. The power of the Sanguine Memory is of the blood, and to ingest blood from the Sanguine Dopant is to surrender your organs to it.

From the wound where her arm was amputated bleeds a torrent of red that congeals into the very limb that is lost. She picks up her fallen knives before kneeling by the man's side, and she whispers in his ear, "Now who's fucking who up?"

***

What she did to that man was brutal. And the most terrifying part is that she no longer feels nauseous thinking about it. Not even a little. It is why she called Marianne out for dinner. She needs someone to talk to. She needs someone who can end all this.

Fobing Central is crowded as always at this time, although business in the area has apparently been in the decline. Nobody wants to linger around after work anymore, not when numerous gang battles have spilled into the district.

This place is full of shopping malls. Luckily, the one she is going to is right beside the train station. There is a pizzeria on the third floor where she is meeting Marianne. She does not stop to browse any stores while on her way up. Even though she was not really hungry before, the smell of baked cheese and sauces from inside the restaurant kitchen brings her appetite back.

Marianne Leroux is dressed in fashionable casualness with a simple yellow dress and a cream scarf. Compare to herself, who gives the impression of a tomboyish bad girl. Many times, she feels envious of Marianne. Not only is she pretty and stylish but she is a lot more accomplished than herself. A lot more accomplished than most people, actually, as she is only a few years older at the age of twenty-six and is spearheading Interpol's anti-Gaia Memory operation in Fobing. She thought it was strange at first that they send a black woman to a predominantly Chinese city but when she thinks of herself as just another Fobing resident, she finds that she would not actually give it much thought.

"Hi Vicky," Marianne says. "So what is it that you want to talk to me about that you can't talk about it at home?"

"It's not that I can't talk about it at home," Vicky says. "I have to go see Wilson Shing later and, you know, my bike broke down so it wouldn't be convenient for me to go back home first."

Their conversation is in English. Marianne hardly speaks any Cantonese and Fobing had once been under British rule long enough for most its people to know at least some English. They can have all sorts of conversations together, although Vicky sometimes have trouble with Marianne's French accent.

"Are you alright?" Marianne asks.

"Yes." Then Vicky shakes her head. "No. I try to keep Sanguine under control but it feels very good whenever it's in me, and when I fight I get excited and it's hard to hold myself back. The guy I cut up today will be alright, months later. But a little better isn't good enough."

"I may be able to help with that. My people have found a way to refine Gaia Memories, but I can't do that for you yet. It could break your cover."

"I know." Vicky sighs. "I've given three years of my life taking the fall for Wilson Shing's son and two years to you people. That's five years I'm never getting back. If I have to give one more year..."

"Don't worry, it will be over soon." Marianne reaches out for Vicky's hand. "Wong Saam Gok practically has monopoly over Gaia Memories at this point. We can end everything in one stroke. All we need is for you to go through with Shing's next big thing."

"Like what?"

"That's up to you to find out."


	2. The Woman in Sanguine - Part 2

Casino Dionysus: One of Wilson Shing's several legitimate enterprises and his most profitable.

As splendid as the classically golden furnishing of the lobby is, Vicky has passed through here too many times to care to take in the sights. She goes straight for the lift and calls for the topmost floor. No eyes other than the one watching the camera.

In one of her jacket pockets is a robot -or a Memory Gadget as Marianne insists- which bears the designation of Gecko Camera. Whenever she is attending a Wong Saam Gok meeting, the Gecko Camera will autonomously and stealthily record all visual and audio, returning to her possession at a later time when it is safe to do so. She activates it by inserting the Gecko Memory into the device's slot. Unlike most other Gaia Memories, the Gecko Memory is of a much smaller profile and bears a smooth surface. Marianne has explained that it is not a true Gaia Memory, that it operates on a scaled down iteration of Gaia Memory principles. Vicky does not completely understand how it functions but all she does not need to. All she knows is that she puts the Gecko Memory in the Gecko Camera and then she can forget about the rest.

After the lift is a short corridor to Shing's office. At the door, a guard pats her down for recording devices. He does not find any, of course, and lets her through.

Wilson Shing does not have an appearance that can be described as remarkable. In a room full of middle-aged men in suits, he would be a face in the crowd if it not for the certain swagger he carries about himself. Even when sitting on a snakeskin couch watching a football game on television, there is an aura of power that almost tangibly radiates from his person.

One team in the game scores a goal. Some of the men in the room roar in cheer, others groan. No doubt they have all placed bets on the results. Wilson Shing though, he simply smiles, as if he knows the goal was going to be scored.

" _Dai Lou_ ," Vicky walks up to him, "I got the Memory back."

 "Let me see," he says, not looking at her. She puts Crocodile in his hand, which he inspects and then laughs heartily, finally giving his full attention to her. "You did good," he gets up, glass of cognac in one hand and an empty one in the other. "What do you want to drink?"

"There's no need," she replies.

"Why don't you have some XO too?"

"Okay."

He pours the same cognac into the empty glass and gives it to Vicky, then when she accepts he puts an arm around her shoulders. "So tell me, anybody giving you bullshit?"

"Some."

"Who?" I'll personally teach them to show you respect."

"It's okay, I can handle it."

"Sure?"

"Yes." Vicky all but whispers. It is getting harder to speak loudly without inhaling, and she really does not want her nose assaulted with alcoholic stench.

"You really sure?"

She nods. Thankfully, he lets go this time.

"I want you to meet someone," Wilson says. He leads her to a tall man with a buzz cut and dragons tattooed along both arms. "This is--"

"Yun-gor?" Vicky exclaims.

"How do you know my name?" the tall man asks her back. "Sorry, I think I know you but I can't remember."

"You two must have met in prison," Wilson says. "Yun just got released today. On good timing too. I'm going to need everyone for the auction."

"Auction?" Vicky asks.

"We're going to be holding a Gaia Memory auction," Wilson answers. "Don't worry about it yet. For now, I'll let you two catch up."

Wilson then goes back to the football, leaving Vicky to stand in awkwardness while Yun stares. She brings her lips to her glass and sips, purposely petting her hair fall over her face. In all the two years since, she has never considered the possibility of meeting Yun again even though her connection to him -and thus Wong Saam Gok- was a major factor in Marianne's decision to recruit her. Yun was her best friend for those three years she spent behind bars, and not once has she ever told him the truth about herself. Now as she is the focus of his intense gaze, Vicky's heart pounds rabid in anxiety.

"You are..." Yun starts towards her.

"I'm nobody important," Vicky blurts out as she hurriedly paces for the door, ignoring Yun pleading for her to not go.

***

It is only when turning the key to her apartment door that Vicky truly realises that she is back home. The entire train ride has been a blur to her, something she only vaguely recalls because her eyes were open while her mind was elsewhere. It has been a while since the last episode and until just now, she thought she has had a better handle on it. Apparently not.

Usually, she takes off her boots while standing. Tonight, all her energy seems to have been drained into whatever void her mind was in, so instead she slumps to the floor on the porch. Her fingers reluctantly tugs at the boot laces to loosen them, but all the anxiety she was distancing herself from suddenly comes back all at once and she finds herself a weeping wreck.

 


	3. Better Tomorrow - Part 1

Marianne is aware that her roommate never is an early riser but to still be in bed with only an hour till noon is late, even for Vicky. She does not know what it was that happened last night to shake Vicky up like this, although she does note that Vicky's emotional state can shift rather drastically at times.

In the two years that they have been working together, Marianne has come to care deeply with Vicky. This sometimes stresses her. Where, she frequently asks herself, should she draw the line between friendship and the mission? Should she allow Vicky to confide in her and then comfort her with affection? Or should she conduct herself as a superior officer and remind Vicky of her responsibilities? Perhaps the answer is obvious to others, not to an overachiever whose childhood and teenage years were sacrificed in pursuit of academic accolades.

Marianne chooses to be a friend this time.

"Vicky!" She calls out as she knocks on the bedroom door. "Vicky, I'm coming in!"

No response. Or maybe there's a faint groan. Marianne opens the door anyway. She finds Vicky lying in bed but awake, apparently never having taken off her jacket since last night. "I'm making breakfast," she says. "You should go take a shower first so you won't have to wait for me to finish."

"It's okay," Vicky says. "I'll just get something downstairs."

"You'd be getting lunch by the time you do. Come on," Marianne affects a pout, "my cooking is not that bad."

"Alright..."

"Good, then I will get prepared."

As Marianne goes to fetch eggs from the refrigerator, she is glad to soon hear the shuffling of half-drowsy feet behind her. Cracking the eggs over a bowl, she is beating them into a uniform mix when a ringing sounds. She recognises it to be from one of her laptops, specifically the one she uses for her work, which can only mean that she is receiving an encrypted call from Lyon. Fixing a wireless headset onto an ear, she answers the call. "Agent Leroux speaking."

"I've just finished reading the report," comes the tired voice of a man approaching oldness. "The local authorities are complaining again. You know what about."

"Captain Malik, Sir, I assure you that the asset is not of the disposition to intentionally cause grievous harm."

"I know, Leroux, I know. But they're running out of patience and I'm afraid cooperation will get difficult the longer this goes on."

Marianne pours the egg slurry into a pan, then says, "Wilson Shing will definitely be dealing in Gaia Memories in the auction he is planning. You've read my suggestion, Sir. We could end Wong Saam Gok's entire operation and even capture a few Red Notice names, all in one fell swoop."

"I agree with you, Leroux. Problem is, the Fobing Police Commissioner will demand to know how long it'll take and I wouldn't have anything to say to her."

"My asset will do all she can to investigate the auction, Sir." The colour is turning, Marianne starts to flip. "We will be able to make concrete plans once we have the necessary intel."

"Very well." She can hear the Captain exhale. "One more thing, your requisitions have arrived."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Good luck, Agent."

Call breaks.

The shower is still running when the omelette cooks fully. Marianne uses the waist to set the dishes on their little table in the living room. Just as she is done, the shower stops and a minute later, Vicky steps out wearing a towel as a dress and drying her hair with another. This is not a new sight to Marianne but as usual, she lets herself appreciate the artwork on Vicky's skin. There was a minor accident with wood splinters last year which left Vicky complaining about how expensive the work on her right arm was. Indeed, the roses and thorny vines which sleeve that arm show their price in their astonishing richness of colour and detail. The scene of skeletons and demons on the other arm though, while by no means of poor craftsmanship, appears rather faded.

Those two extensive tattoos made it unfeasible for Vicky to place her Connector on her arms where it would be more convenient, and she had to settle it for the neck. As Marianne's eyes wander up to the organic circuitry, a tinge of guilt runs through her gut. Even if it is for the greater good, the fact stands that she is pushing Vicky further into becoming a monster while Vicky herself is desperately clinging onto her eroding humanity.

"Hey Mari," Vicky says, now sitting on the sofa opposite her. "Thanks."

"It's nothing," she whispers back. Her guilt only exacerbates at the word. Still, there are things to be done. "Could I ask you to accompany me to the docks?" She asks. "This afternoon, I mean, after we finish eating."

"Huh? Why?" Vicky raises a brow. "You never asked me to go with you to collect your requisitions."

"I have a surprise for you," she manages a smile. A genuine smile, but a hollow one as well.

"Well," Vicky picks up a fork, "I got nothing on later so I guess I can go with you."

***

Marianne is the one leading them through the docks, checking the numbers on the sides of the shipping containers as they pass each one. Vicky does not know what exactly Marianne is looking for and she did not ask, figuring there is no pressing need for an extra pair of eyes. Aside, she quite likes the view she is getting from following behind.

The thought suddenly makes her feel guilty. She averts her gaze to nothing in particular.

"There it is," Marianne remarks as she stops at the doors of a large green container. Then she whips out her smartphone and fiddles with it until a metallic click resounds from inside the container and the doors pop ajar.

"Interpol has an app for locking stuff up?" Vicky snorts a laugh.

"Sending a program is more convenient then sending a device," Marianne says. "By the way, the app is not standard issue. None of the equipment we've been using are, especially not the things inside." She places a hand on a door handle and cocks an eye at Vicky, "Shall we?"

Vicky shrugs, "Sure."

Marianne opens the entrance just wide enough for a person to slip through. Since it is obvious she does not want to risk anyone sneaking a peek, Vicky obliges by stepping inside immediately.

The view is not at all what Vicky expects it to be. Although the exterior suggest a simple shipping container, the interior is a laboratory fit entirely with metallic boxy machines all interconnected through fat worm-like tubes underneath a clear crystaline floor. While she is trying to comprehend complexity of the arrangement lying before her, Marianne shuts the door and proceeds to a computer console.

"What's all this?" Vicky finally asks.

"This is how we will refine Sanguine," Marianne answers. She pushes a button and a hatch beside the console unseals, sitting within is red and silver metallic device of hand hold-able size and indeterminate function. Yet, something about it nudges from the back of her mind as if she has seen it before. "And this is how you will transform with a refined Sanguine."

"Oh," Vicky now recalls, "so this is what the Masked Rider uses?"

"If you mean Katsumi Daido, the one who called himself Masked Rider Eternal, then yes it is. But if you are referring to the one who protects Futo, the answer is a bit less simple." Marianne reaches for the device and regards it for a while before continuing, "From what we have learned from interrogating former Museum members, these are known as Lost Drivers. A few units were produced but they were meant as a step towards the desired end result that is the Double Driver which Masked Rider uses."

"So using a Driver would make me like Masked Rider, huh?" Vicky breathes a quick but heavy sigh. "Funny, isn't it? The Driver would make me look like a hero but I'd still be using Sanguine. I'll still be turning into a monster."

"You're not a monster, Vicky." Marianne picks up Vicky's hands, squeezing them gently. "And I promise you will never be."

"Then why do I act like it?" Vicky shouts, snatching her hands away from Marianne's touch.

"That's because we humans were never meant to be this close to Earth's memories." Marianne sticks her hand out, and then requests, "May I see Sanguine?"

Wordless, Vicky produces it from her jacket pocket and gives it to her.

"Sanguine is the memory of blood and all that is associated with it," Marianne says. "Violence and death are its domains, as are joy and life. Taking a multi-faceted Memory like it into yourself is bound to be overwhelming. But Sanguine is not an evil Memory and your compatibility with it does not make you evil, never made you evil." She then turns to the Driver in its hatch and takes it out, and with both it and the Sanguine Memory in hand, she offers them to Vicky. "Will you keep fighting with me?"

Quiet for a while and then Vicky accepts the responsibility once more. "So," she raises a brow, "is this the surprise you had for me?"

"No," Marianne smiles. "This is."

With all the chrome in this secret lab, Vicky did not notice the lump hiding under a polyester cover until Marianne goes over to it. "Is that..." Vicky utters with suspended excitement, suspecting already what is beneath the polyester. As the cover comes off, Vicky sees her hunch confirmed in the form of a beast-sized superbike clad in a blood-red chassis and sporting cybernetic detailing.

"It's not just a motorcycle," Marianne interjects while Vicky slings herself onto the machine. "Check the controls."

There are the basics, of course. There are also a electronic display in place of traditional meters, a button labelled simply "Boost", and a slot which resembles the one on the Memory Driver. However...

"There's no ignition," Vicky says.

"It doesn't need one," Marianne adds. "The AI knows when you're ready to ride."

Vicky blinks. "What?"

"And it does not need refueling for the same reason the Memory Gadgets never need recharging."

"You commissioned this just for me?" Vicky yelps, almost like a happy puppy. "This is awesome!"

"Don't judge it before you try it." Marianne sits herself behind and wraps her arms around Vicky's waist. "Why don't we go for a ride first?"


End file.
